


almost

by moonjellyprince



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 13:27:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5458082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonjellyprince/pseuds/moonjellyprince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2015 has been a rough year. </p>
<p>these are some discontinued/unfinished works (read: two untitled drabbles) that have been collecting dust but had some promise, so i'm collecting and posting them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	almost

> _“I want to be remembered.”_

“Huh?”

Oikawa, in his fourteen years of glory, stands still in the grass of Iwaizumi’s backyard. He has several lightning bugs cupped together in his hands; the glow is soft on his features as thousands of cicadas chirp their summer song.

“No matter how long it takes, I want to be remembered. Is that a bad thing to wish for, Iwa-chan?"

 “Where the hell is this coming from, Oikawa? You sound like you’re intentionally raising your goddamn death flag.”

Oikawa just turns and laughs, his smile gentle and warm. He releases the lightning bugs into the night sky, looking satisfied as they resume their blink-blink patterns. “Don’t you think that they’re like little stars?” Iwaizumi, still reeling from Oikawa’s sudden declaration, simply nods. He looks up at the sky, lets out a small sigh, and walks forward to grasp Oikawa’s hand;the night smells sweet like morning glories. “You’ll remember me, won’t you? Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi’s family doesn’t grow flowers.

★

Iwaizumi isn’t sure how he’s gotten himself into this situation, but he’s in Oikawa’s proximity, eyes fixed on his lips. Oikawa looks as if he’s trembling. Iwaizumi leans in and presses his lips against Oikawa’s, skin against skin. Oikawa radiates the same type of warmth that blossoms in Iwaizumi’s chest whenever Oikawa smiles. Oikawa inhales sharply and exhales against Iwaizumi’s mouth, parting his lips slightly and wrapping his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck.

“Finally,” he laughs, when they finally part for air. “I’ve been wanting to do that for—“

Iwaizumi doesn’t let Oikawa finish. He meets their lips in another kiss, searching, seeking the spark that ignited in his stomach and refused to leave. Oikawa doesn’t seem like he can control himself, as he surges forward and returns the kiss with equal feeling. They pause, press their foreheads together, before leaning in again for more.

Again.

Again.

Another kiss.

Just one more.

Iwaizumi doesn’t realize the wetness sliding down his cheeks until the bell for lunch period ends. They’re mercilessly ripped from their bubble, and both of them look at each other in disappointment and fear.

It’s the last day of school.

★

Oikawa is blissfully fucked out in the sheets; Iwaizumi is lighting a cigarette. Glow-in-the-dark stars peel off of walls that fight against the demon that is time; Iwaizumi’s wearing a Godzilla shirt, soft warm cotton hugging his biceps. They don’t talk, because there are no words for them to speak that they don’t already understand.

Oikawa has imageless dreams, and  Iwaizumi dreams of morning glories.

 

★

“ _Oikawa._ ”

“Hm, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa flutters open those pretty lashes, lips tugged up in a soft and exhausted smile. “I know I’m easy to read, but is it always that obvious when I can’t sleep?”

Oikawa, that _idiot,_ always shifts and fidgets and knits his brows together and worries his lip and attempts to edge away. Away from _Iwaizumi_ , as if that’ll mask the dark waves of insecurity that wash over and threaten to claim him in the stillness of a Miyagi summer night. Iwaizumi saves his retort and simply opens his arms, not bothering to open his eyes.

There’s a few beats of hesitation, but in the end Oikawa scoots closer. He chuckles a little when, instead of pressing against Iwaizumi’s chest, he rests his head on top of Iwaizumi’s and pulls his best friend close.

“Iwa-chan still smells the same,” Oikawa breathes. Iwaizumi growls in response as he feels his cheeks flare.

* * *

 

_“Iwa-chan?” A 13 year-old Oikawa peers at his best friend, whispering softly in the middle of the night.  
            Iwaizumi, who knows no better, fakes as if he’s still asleep. He’ll bet money that Tooru will just give up and go back to bed so he can have a few more precious hours. _

_After the sheets rustle and Oikawa sighs, Iwaizumi bites back a triumphant smile._

_Until he feels Oikawa shifting._

_Closer._

_Right against him._

_Head on top of his._

_“Iwa-chan, you smell like home.” Oikawa whispers. The setter's voice is soft and affectionate in a way that Iwaizumi can’t understand._

_As Oikawa's slender arms envelop Iwaizumi, Iwaizumi bites back his complaints and settles down with his face burning a brilliant red._

* * *

 

“You knew I was awake that night, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did, Iwa-chan! Tooru the Wise sees all, especially when his meaty best friend stiffens up like a board!” Oikawa’s voice is obnoxiously chipper for how fucking late it is, and Iwaizumi lunges and gives the other boy a well-deserved noogie.

“You're an even shittier asshole when you're tired, Trashkawa.”

“H-Hey!”

-

At the end of their bickering, the two finally glance at the clock. It’s 2 AM.

“Shit,” Iwaizumi groans. “Seriously, Tooru?”

“W-Well! The night is still young, isn’t it?~ Let’s go on a date!” Oikawa sounds disgustingly chipper, and it suddenly hits Iwaizumi that Oikawa most definitely has not gotten any sleep. If he had, he would be disoriented, out of it, and unwilling to get out of bed. It’d take Iwaizumi at least 30 minutes to convince him to move, and then another 30 for Oikawa to fuss over his hair and his mother and other miscellaneous things for the sake of pissing Iwaizumi off.

**Author's Note:**

> and then they both died


End file.
